


Bound

by Lostkitty



Series: Revenge and Satisfaction [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Loki Wins, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loki smut, POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Avengers (2012), Same story different POV, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostkitty/pseuds/Lostkitty
Summary: Loki won the war, and the Earth is his. But there are some who continue to fight against him, and he plots his revenge. He kidnaps Tony Stark's sister, intending to sway her loyalties and make her his. Instead, he finds something he couldn't have anticipated and didn't know he needed. And it might just save his soul.Revenge and Satisfaction, but from Loki's POV.





	1. A Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Revenge and Satisfaction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367425) by [Lostkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostkitty/pseuds/Lostkitty). 



> You know that feeling when you're already tied up in too many projects and decide to end one, only to start a new one? Yeah, that's this. 
> 
> This is the Revenge and Satisfaction story written from Loki’s POV. My intention is to go through Part 1 and the very beginning of Part 2.

He was angry, very angry. The only thought on his mind was revenge. Revenge against Thor, against his motley group of ‘friends’ who’d done everything in their power to thwart him, who’d refused to accept the inevitability of his rule, even as he crushed all other opposition and won the war.

 

But it was the Iron Man, especially, that he resented. Above all the others, he had worked himself under Loki’s skin. Even as his rule was solidified, as the world bowed down before him, Tony Stark had continued to fight, to elude him, to work from the shadows to bring him down. Loki hated him, and he would get even.

 

Initially, he’d thought to kill his beloved, Pepper, but Tony had wisely hidden her with him. But Loki was nothing if not adaptive, and so he’d visited his home, looking for _something_ , for some weakness he might exploit.

 

And then he’d found it. Photographs of Tony and another woman, a _sister_. One he cared very much for, if the many pictures of them smiling and laughing were any indication. Loki picked up one of the photos of the smiling woman. She was indeed beautiful – for a human, he thought. He traced his finger over her face, and a plan began to form.


	2. Watching

Loki waited outside the home of Sara Stark, watching her from the shadows. He knew he had to move quickly, but he wanted to watch her first, just a bit. She wasn’t doing anything very interesting, just sitting in a chair by the window, reading a book. Her long legs were splayed out before her, and her short shorts gave him an impressive view of them. His cock twitched as he looked at her, and he tamped down the momentary feeling of desire. Soon enough, it would be she who lusted for _him_.

 

He had no doubt that he could draw her to him, to his side. If he had the time, he would trick her, hide his identity, and seduce her slowly. But he didn’t have the time. Tony Stark would come for her soon, would hide her away, just as he’d done with his Pepper. And so, with subtlety off the table, that only left the direct approach.

 

She stood up suddenly, stretching her arms above her head. For a moment, a bare expanse of stomach was revealed to him, and he felt those stirrings again. It had simply been too long. But he was patient, and he would not be ruled by some misplaced desire to stick his cock into some human woman’s cunt. He’d get there eventually, but it would be because she _begged_ him for it. He grinned at the thought.

 

She turned off the light and walked off, to bed, he assumed. He left briefly to make sure that everything was ready for her. When it was, he returned, taking her from her bed as she slept, a feeling of amusement running through him as she struggled uselessly in his arms.

 

He laughed as he spelled her back to sleep, thinking about how much fun it would be to break her, how satisfying his revenge would be.


	3. Hello, Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's feeling pretty good about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers chapters 1 and 2 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

“Hello, Sara,” he’d said, and then watched with dark satisfaction as she realized the trouble she was in, as he’d played with her. And he’d so loved playing with her, touching her gently, whispering dark promises into her ear, watching her shiver in fear and anticipation.

 

And her defiance, he’d liked that, too. It would make breaking her so much more fun. And she would break, of that he was sure. For even as she’d fought against him, he’d sensed her arousal, noticed the way she looked at him, the way her thighs clenched when he spoke, how she tried to push her feelings aside. It would make it all the easier to manipulate her.

 

He smiled to himself as he thought of how wet she’d been for him tonight. A week in and, despite being his prisoner, despite fighting him, she also couldn’t resist him.

 

And if he’d enjoyed the way that she trembled and moaned beneath him as she came undone, the way that her legs had pulled him closer and her thighs had clenched around his head, well that was no matter. And it also didn’t matter that he’d given in to his urge to kiss her lips lightly before he’d left. There was no harm in enjoying himself a little, was there?

 

He grinned and got back to work, and ruling this filthy planet was certainly turning out to be a lot of work, looking forward to seeing her again tomorrow.


	4. Small Cracks in the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers Chapter 3 in Revenge and Satisfaction

It had been two weeks since Loki had taken her prisoner. Normally when he arrived, he had her passion, her anger, her defiance to look forward to. He enjoyed it, her fire, but not as much as he liked manipulating it, the hot heat of fury transformed into screams of passion under his hands.

 

But not today. Today, when he arrived, he found her sitting on the floor, looking distressed. It wasn’t what he’d expected, and he didn’t like it. “My dear, you look tense. Whatever is the matter?” he asked.

 

“A window,” she responded. He stared at her. Humans were so strange, he thought. Was that supposed to make any sort of sense?

 

“A window. I need a window.” Ah. So that was it. He could see the need for such a thing. To be honest, it simply hadn’t occurred to him when he’d prepared this place. He didn’t want her to escape or for anyone to find her, so he’d just gotten rid of all the doors and windows with magic.

 

He figured it wouldn’t be a problem to give her one, and he had half a mind to do so when she spoke again. “Please, Loki. The walls are closing in on me. I need sunlight, space, more than these walls. Please. I’m not asking to leave. I just need a window.”

 

Loki grinned and mentally scolded himself. Here he’d been about to give her something she wanted for free. But now that he knew just how _badly_ she wanted it, he realized the opportunity this presented. And Loki wasn’t one to pass up such a tempting one. He saw a chance, not just to get what he wanted, but to test her fire, her determination. How much was she willing to give for such a small thing, he wondered.

 

“I want you to get on the bed,” he told her.

 

He saw it, the conflict in her. He knew she didn’t want to give him _anything_. He waited, practically seeing the thoughts working their way through her head, rearranging themselves into something she could live with. Loki loved the way people managed to lie to themselves.

 

When she agreed, he was elated. It had been so easy. No fighting, no pushback at all, just a few minutes to think through it. It was a crack in her resolve, the first of many. He wondered how much more he could get out of her.

 

“There’s just one more thing, love, he said. “I want you unbound.” She hesitated, and he enjoyed watching her think. She knew what he was asking, he could tell. With no restraints, she’d have to work even harder to stay in control, to keep her body from betraying her even further than it already had. And if he could get her body to give in, her mind would follow soon enough. As she was thinking it through, she looked at him with resentment, and he knew he’d won again. He tried not to smile, but it tugged at his lips nonetheless.

 

She made her decision and climbed into the bed without another word. Loki was having so much fun.  He wanted to nudge the cracks in her resolve even further. She was already vulnerable. Willpower was a strange thing. As long as you nurtured it, exercised it, it would strengthen, becoming harder, nearly unbreakable. That was, at least, until you gave in once. For once you gave in, it became easier and easier to do so again, and then it would all crumble into ruin.

 

And so he took advantage of the situation, not realizing that perhaps this same willpower problem could be applied to himself. Later, Loki would realize that what happened next was the first crack in his own glass, minute though it was. But he’d been too oversure, too caught up in the game, having too much fun to realize he was making himself vulnerable too.

 

For the past two weeks, he’d brought her pleasure, disregarding his own, trying to ignore the way he felt when she screamed his name or clenched her thighs tight around him. But now, he wanted more. He wanted her to want him, to ache for him, to beg for him.

 

He got into bed with her and pushed her down gently. He climbed over her and enjoyed the way she tensed up beneath him. He breathed on her neck, wanting to taste it, to lick it, but he maintained control. “Lift up your skirt, love,” he said. This close to her, he couldn’t help but notice the way she trembled underneath him, the way her breath sped up, the way her hands shook as she reached down and did as she was told. “So good for me,” he praised, trying not to think about how close his cock was to her, how wet she probably was for him, how it would feel to press into her.

 

He looked down at her, and her eyes were fixated on his face, on his lips. He felt her fingers twitch beside her, and he reached down and grabbed them, pressing them to his face. “It’s alright, darling, you can touch me.” He wanted her comfortable with touching him, to give in a little now and make it so much easier to give in more when he pleasured her. Her hands were soft against his skin, exploring his face as though he were something wonderful instead of the monster he knew himself to be. He relaxed for a moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the attention she was giving him.

 

Her fingers skimmed his lips lightly, her breath blowing gently on them. Her hand cupped his neck, and he longed to close the distance between them, to see if she tasted sweet everywhere, to feel her tongue against his own. He steeled his resolve. He had a plan, and he intended to see it through.

 

He reached down between them and pushed his fingers into her. His breath caught as she closed her eyes and arched into him. He knew that he should get off of her, settle himself between her legs, but the feel of her coming apart, not before him, but underneath him, was too much. He leaned his head against her shoulder, lips so close to her neck, and he felt her writhing deliciously underneath him as he brought her closer. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, ready to execute his plan. He worked her slowly, making sure that her body was tense in anticipation, until it _needed_ the release he could grant it. And, as she pulled his hair and pressed her cunt against his mouth, as he felt the familiar tensing inside her, he pulled back.

 

She cried out, and he continued to work her, to tease her while denying her the release she’d become so accustomed to. “Beg,” he said.

 

“What?” she asked, not understanding exactly what had changed from a second ago to now.

 

“Beg me. Tell me that you want me to bring about your ecstasy, that you want me to ravage you with my fingers, with my tongue. That you want me to make that aching cunt clench in pleasure, gushing all over my hand as you come. Tell me that you want more, love, and I will give it to you.”

 

He saw it, her defiance, come rising to the surface, and he practically moaned. There she was, his fighter.

 

“Stop,” she ordered him.

 

He grinned. “Well, if you’re sure…” He’d gotten so much from her today, without giving anything in return. He had her wanting him, touching him, clutching at him, desperate for him, and soon he would have her begging. He couldn’t believe she’d given him so much for just a window.

 

\----------

 

Over the next three days, he teased her, tortured her, got her right up to the point of orgasm, and then denied her. He sensed her frustration growing every day, her anger flaring at the mere sight of him. He felt her control slipping.

 

It also pleased him to note that she’d chosen to remain unbound.

 

On the fourth day, they were both frustrated with this game they were playing. He didn’t bother to be gentle but attacked her senses with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers. He got her close, pushing as far as he could without granting her release, when she called out to him. “Loki, please.”

 

Did he dare hope? “Hmmm?” he asked, waiting for more.

 

“Please. I’m begging you. Keep going. Don’t stop. Please, Loki,” she panted.

 

“Of course, darling. Wouldn’t dream of it.” And then he rewarded her with an orgasm that left her speechless. He could tell it was intense, a climax like that after days of denial, and so he brought her down slowly, enjoying the way her body shook as he slowly laved at her, at the look of pure bliss on her face.

 

He felt very satisfied with himself and stood to go, but was taken aback when she stopped him. “Wait,” she said. “Don’t go.”

 

He didn’t understand why she’d want him to stay, and he looked at her, trying to read her. “Please,” she asked again.

 

He sat down next to her. “Oh, my sweet, I wish I could stay, but I can’t.” He was somewhat surprised to find that he meant it. Her company was certainly more enjoyable than the alternative. In here, his only task was pleasuring a beautiful woman, of drawing her to him. Out there, he fought to reorganize and control an entire alien planet. And with that thought, he was reminded of all that awaited him. “There are urgent matters awaiting me outside. Lest you forget, I am king of this little world.”

 

“Ok,” she said, and then went to roll away from him. She seemed dejected, and it bothered him. He thought of what she’d asked for – a window, his company – and he realized she must be lonely. He found he didn’t like the thought. He wanted her to bend to him, to give herself to him, but he didn’t want to hurt her, not really. None of this was actually about her. She was merely the unfortunate relative of his enemy. He would work on this problem later. He couldn’t stay, and he couldn’t let her have contact with anyone else, but he was clever, and he’d figure something else out.

 

He promised to come back tomorrow and to stay longer. He was sure he could manage it if he prepared properly. He wished her a good night and then felt the urge to kiss her, to reassure her and to take something for himself too. He saw no harm in it and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. He wanted to deepen it, but he knew that he needed to go, so he pulled back. He looked at her and considered staying, despite all the work that awaited him. He sighed and moved a strand of her hair behind her ear, resigning himself to the long night that awaited him. And then he left. 


	5. Like a Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki fulfills his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers Chapter 4 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

The next morning, Loki did as promised and added a window to Sara’s room. She had earned it, certainly, coming undone so beautifully for him the night before, begging him to bring her to climax. He grinned at the thought.

 

He showed up to visit her and found her standing before the new window, eyes closed against the warm light of the morning sun. He snuck up behind her silently and whispered into her ear, hoping to get a reaction from her – shock, nervousness, fear, maybe even that fiery anger at having been bested the night before. “Does it satisfy?” he asked suggestively.

 

To say that her response surprised him would be an understatement. Upon hearing his voice, she spun around, lifted herself up, and _hugged_ him. “It’s perfect,” she said, sincerely. “Thank you, Loki.”

 

He’d never seen this side of her, this _affectionate_ side, and he found he rather liked it. He reached around her and held her back, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his.

 

After a minute like that, she pulled back, looking embarrassed, cheeks blushing pink as she realized what she’d just done. “Interesting,” he thought. It wasn’t horror or shame that she felt, catching herself in the arms of her captor. It was _embarrassment_ , awkwardness, as though _she’d_ done something wrong. He found it amusing, and just a bit… endearing.

 

He watched her turn back to the window, eyes closed, face turned toward the sunlight, the picture of contentment, even amid her captivity. He thought she looked breathtaking.

 

Something had tickled at his senses, warning him that something was wrong. He focused in on it, trying to figure out the nature of the problem, whether it was something that had to be taken care of immediately, and he was disappointed to realize that it was. He sighed and excused himself. Whoever was causing this problem would regret that they had.

 

\--------------------

 

After he’d _dealt_ with the situation, he returned back to see Sara. He knew that his priorities should be elsewhere, but he’d promised her would stay longer today, and he didn’t like breaking his promises, at least when they were honestly given, as this one had been.

 

She was where he had left her, in front of the window, sitting now instead of standing, legs crossed, face so close to the window, it was almost pressed against it. She looked delighted, watching all the mundane goings-on of the world below her, and he wondered at her ability to find joy in such little things. He didn’t want to disturb her peace, so he magicked himself next to her quietly, looking down below, trying to see what she found so interesting.

 

After a while, she noticed him. He could tell by the way her body shifted with the recognition. He wondered what she would say about him just sitting there silently with her, but she surprised him again, choosing to say nothing, just settling back into her peaceful reverie, seemingly comfortable with his presence. He found himself feeling a little calmer, himself, just sitting quietly, watching the movement of the world, letting his thoughts wander away from all that troubled him, and it was a great many things that troubled him lately.

 

Eventually, she broke the silence, asking about her brother. “Are you going to kill him?” 

 

That was the plan, he thought. But, looking at her, face so open and full of worry, he found that he couldn’t hurt her that way. And yet, he didn’t want to lie to her either. “I haven’t decided yet,” he settled on.

 

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

 

Loki looked at her. Is that what she thought? It had never been his plan to kill her. Though it was always an option if it got him what he wanted, he supposed, so perhaps it was a fair question. Still, he found her interesting at times, passionate, surprising, beautiful. The idea of killing her didn’t sit well with him. “No, I’m not,” he said, figuring he could always change his mind later.

 

“What will you do with me then?”

 

That was a good question, too. If he got his way, which he assumed he would, this would end with her devotion, her loyalty, her naked in his bed night after night, his to play with however he pleased. The idea made him grin with mischief. “Perhaps I’ll keep you.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him, and he was amused by her ability to converse so casually with him, as though he weren’t ruling her planet, holding her captive, as though they weren’t discussing her fate at his hands. “Like a pet?”

 

The idea had merit, he thought. “Ah, but you would make such a good pet, love. And I an excellent master,” he said seductively, picturing her on the end of a leash.

 

She was suddenly lost in her thoughts. “Master,” she whispered, and it the word moved through him in a ripple of pleasure, centering straight on his cock, now hard with the imagery that came to mind with that word on her lips.

 

He rubbed her face, touching those lips. “See? It wouldn’t be so bad. I’d make sure that all your needs were met, that you were always satisfied,” he said, imbuing his words with as much innuendo as possible. He felt her shiver, and it took more control than he liked to admit to not ravish her right now.

 

But then her mood suddenly changed. “Not all of them, though,” she said, turning away from him.

 

He was confused. They’d been caught in the moment, she just as intrigued as he was at the topic of conversation, he could feel it. “What do you mean?” He wanted her good mood back, her attention, and so he stroked her hair and her back reassuringly. “What can I not give you? I am king of this planet. It is on the verge of a peace heretofore unknown. I am a god and have power you cannot imagine.” He held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “What could you possibly ask of me that I couldn’t provide?”

 

“My freedom,” she answered.

 

Ah, that. “Freedom is a lie, love. You don’t need it.”

 

“You’re never going to let me go, are you?” she asked quietly.

 

He didn’t like this turn in the conversation. He held her against him and laid his head on hers. He told her the truth. “When the time comes, you won’t want me to.”

 

He soon felt her relax against him, and she settled back into the same peaceful silence as before. He felt pulled into it, as well. He let his thoughts wash over him, move past him and through him, all while holding her, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. She had a comforting, calming effect on him, he found, something that was hard to find for Loki, especially lately. And so he sat there with her, a quiet respite in a chaotic world. He wondered to himself that he felt some affection for this human, and he kissed her head lightly. “Like a pet,” he thought, amused.

 


	6. Not Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This falls between chapters 4 and 5 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

Loki found ruling the Earth to be an obnoxious and stressful activity. There were so many people, so many different nations, currencies, leaders, and languages. He thought it was proof of their inferiority that they’d never bothered to unify themselves as humans, instead focusing on minute differences and then labeling everyone else as “other.”

 

Loki sought to fix that, but it wasn’t easy. That is to say, it was a lot of work. Once he’d gotten rid of the world’s leaders (some dead, some imprisoned, others useful enough to serve him), it was pretty easy to enforce his will. Those who’d lived under murderous dictators were thankful for their liberation and their improved place in the world. No one would go hungry with him as king, and no one would live in the abject squalor he’d found in certain parts of the world. Of course, those who’d hoarded their wealth and power were unhappy, but they were helpless to stop him, shrewd in business, he assumed, but pathetic in all the ways that really mattered. They held no threat to his power once they were on equal financial footing as the rest of the world.

 

But it was all so arduous, and he found himself tired and stressed. That quiet day that he’d spent with Sara in front of the window had been the most peaceful one since he’d arrived, the most peaceful one in years, he thought. He found her presence soothing. And so his visits became longer, and their time together more companionable.

 

Sometimes he’d sit with her at the window, holding her close to him, sometimes they would talk. He found her easy to talk with, witty and charming, seemingly incapable of being anything less than sincere, and she spoke with a passion and a joy that he found spectacular. Some days ended with her moaning his name, and others didn’t.

 

Today, she was watching a movie. “Phantom of the Opera,” she said. She sighed in contentment. “It’s one of my favorites.”

 

He watched with her a bit, sometimes watching the movie, but more often watching her. She unabashedly sang along with the music (badly), recited the lines along with the actors, and otherwise was completely engaged.

 

He asked questions every once in a while, just so that he could see her light up and gush about how wonderful it all was.

 

“And this man,” he asked, pointing at Gerard Butler, “This _Phantom_ , you like him?”

 

She grinned. “I do.”

 

“But he’s the bad guy, is he not?”

 

She frowned, then smirked. “Yeah, he sort of is. He kidnaps Christine, threatens to kill the man she loves, manipulates her.” She looked at Loki, amused. “Sound familiar?”

 

He leaned forward. “And yet, you _like_ him.”

 

She shivered. “I guess I have a type,” she said absent-mindedly, staring at his mouth again.

 

He smiled. “Are you saying that _I_ am your type as well, love?”

 

She shook herself a bit and cleared her throat. “He’s fictional. It’s different.”

 

He touched her face and turned it to his. “Is it?” he asked quietly.

 

She looked into his eyes, and he almost stopped breathing. “Yes,” she whispered, “it is.” And then she surprised him. Again. She closed the small distance between them and pressed her lips against his. This time he did stop breathing. When he didn’t immediately react, she began to pull back, but he quickly came to his senses and returned the kiss.

 

His thumb stroked her cheek as his lips moved against hers. She opened her mouth a little, and he pressed his tongue inside. She moaned and pulled at the back of his neck, pressing her body closer to him. He was overcome with the sensations of her, her mouth moving deliciously against his, her soft body pressed against his own, the way she held him to her, seeming to want more.

 

And then she stopped, pulling away and putting her hand on his chest, distancing herself. She was blushing. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking down. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

He held her face again. “Oh, love, you need never apologize for that,” and he smiled wickedly at her.

 

She smiled, tension gone just like that. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not going to win me that easily.”

 

He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “Oh, pet, I’ve already won you. You just haven’t accepted it yet.” Again, she trembled, and he worked to push down his arousal. He placed his hand on her thigh, moving it upward slowly, teasingly. She closed her eyes against the feeling. As his hand reached the top of her thighs, she spread them open for him, seemingly unaware she was even doing so. His finger rubbed a line at her slit, and he found her to be wet and ready for him. He spread her wetness up her folds, onto her clit, where he rubbed wet circles on it. She moaned and pulled him closer, breath ghosting on his neck. “You see, pet?” he said quietly. He pressed a long finger inside her, and she clutched at him, moaning. “Mine.”

 

She groaned at that, and he continued to work inside of her, adding another finger to the first. Her breathing became rapid, her lips rubbing at his neck maddeningly. His cock strained against his pants, and he worked to maintain control of himself as she lost her own under his attentions. When she climaxed, she moaned his name right into his ear, and he trembled, pulling her tighter as she came undone in his arms.

 

Afterward, she leaned back, looking into his face. She kissed him, and she smiled, no blushing this time.

 

“Mine,” he repeated, rubbing her cheek.

 

“Not yet,” she said, still smiling.

 

“Soon, then,” he promised.

 


	7. Something More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between chapters 4 and 5 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

When Loki arrived, Sara was lying on the couch, curled into herself. She saw him and groaned in annoyance. “Oh God, no, Loki. Not today,” she said, irritably.

 

Loki narrowed his eyes, ready to fight with her for such behavior, but then he noticed that she seemed to be in pain. He sat down next to her and rubbed her back. “Are you alright, love?”

 

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Loki, I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just cramps. I get them pretty bad the day before my period.”

 

He tilted his head. “Your what?”

 

She groaned again. “Don’t tell me that women on Asgard don’t menstruate. That’s just not fair.”

 

Ah, now that he understood. He smiled. “No, they do. I can fix it for you if you’d like.”

 

“Like get rid of the pain? Yes, please,” she practically whimpered.

 

He continued to rub soothing circles on her skin. “I mean all of it. I can get rid of your ‘period,’ you called it?”

 

Her eyes snapped open. “Shut the fuck up, Loki.”

 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” he asked, insulted.

 

She grinned. “No, no, sorry. It’s just an expression of shock. I’m not actually telling you to shut up. Can you really get rid of my period?”

 

He relaxed. “Yes,” he said, as though it were an obvious and normal thing to do.

 

“Oh my god, Loki, yes, _please_ get rid of my period, please, please.”

 

He laughed and put his hand on her stomach, letting his magic flow through her. A moment later he was finished, and he pulled his hand back. “Better?” he asked.

 

She sat up and hugged him tight, no longer in pain. “So much better!” She kissed him hard on the mouth. “Thank you!”

 

He laughed again and held her. “My pleasure.” And it really was. He enjoyed how affectionate she got when she was happy, when he did something nice for her. He found himself wanting to do more and more for her.

 

“Well, this saves me the awkward, ‘Loki, go get me some tampons’ conversation,” she said, smiling.

 

He hummed in acknowledgment. “There is one thing I should mention, though,” he said, and she sat back a bit, arms still around his neck. “It’s a small thing, but I still think you should know. As long as my spell is in place, you can’t get pregnant.”

 

She shrugged. “Works for me. I have an IUD anyway.” He looked at her questioningly, and she clarified, “Birth control.” He nodded in understanding. “And, besides,” she continued, “even if I were interested in that sort of thing, it’s not like I have many chances to find a boyfriend these days.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t get out often,” she joked.

 

Loki laughed again. He still found it strange that she could joke so easily about her captivity, but it was something that made her special, her ability to find the positive in things.

 

“Sorry about that,” he smiled. “But you are mine, and I intend to keep you,” he said, kissing her neck and making her gasp.

 

“Ah, yes,” she said, tone light. “As a pet, right?”

 

He looked up into her face, rubbing it gently. He felt a small swell of affection for this woman, full of such light and warmth, and a little mischief mixed in there as well. He smiled and kissed her. “Maybe something more.”


	8. A Worthy Opponent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers Chapter 5 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

Loki was in a bad mood.

 

He’d spent the morning, and some of the night, dealing with various pockets of rebellion. They weren’t difficult to stamp out, but they were vexing. Why these people couldn’t accept what was best for them, he didn’t know. And then there were the damned Avengers. They were always working against him, but this morning they’d managed to hit him harder than he’d expected. As of yet, they hadn’t been able to do any real damage, but he knew they would soon be capable of doing so.

 

The whole situation was frustrating beyond measure. He’d made no headway with the Avengers or with Tony Stark, though they’d managed to get closer and hit him harder every time, all while remaining totally elusive. He didn’t like to admit it, but it made him feel a bit powerless. And if he didn’t like to admit it, he certainly didn’t like to feel it. He needed to reassert himself, to regain control of _something_.

 

That was the mood he was in when he came to visit Sara. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, not even bothering to look at her. There would be no warmth today, no talking, no soft touches. He was frustrated, angry, and a lot of it had to do with her brother. Since he couldn’t take it out on him, he’d take it out on her.

 

“No,” she said adamantly, crossing her arms.

 

In the past few weeks, Loki had let his guard down with her, had let himself slip into a form of passivity with her, allowing them both to forget the true nature of their relationship. They weren’t friends, they weren’t lovers. He was her king and her captor, and she was his prisoner. He intended to remind her.

 

“Don’t do this today, love,” he warned. At times your fire is entertaining, but I won’t have it today. Do as I ask or –”

 

“Or what?” she interrupted. “You’ll make me? Nothing new there.” She softened for a moment, considering him. “Tell me what’s wrong, Loki. What happened?” Her concern for him surprised him, but he wouldn’t let it affect him. He didn’t care for this human, and she shouldn’t care for him.

 

Instead, he focused on his anger. “What’s wrong?” he snarled. “What’s wrong is that I’m on a planet of idiot humans who are too stubborn and too stupid to see what’s best for them. You are, all of you, beneath me, and hardly worthy of the attention I’ve bestowed upon your puny planet. Now,” he said through gritted teeth, “get on the bed.”

 

He saw her indignation rise up within her. He’d forgotten how much he liked it. “Why, Loki? Because that’s what’s _best_ for me? Being _kidnapped_ is what’s best for me? Being kept from the world, alone, unable to talk to anyone, being used as _bait_ is what’s best for me?! Being tied up and used for your pleasure is what’s best for me?”

 

This is exactly what he needed, a fight, a channel for his anger and frustration. He stepped closer, meaning to intimidate her. “My pleasure?” he asked. “If I recall, you were the one writhing beneath me, begging for more.” He found himself aroused at the thought.

 

She blushed, and he felt victory at his hands. Apparently, she was thinking the same thoughts he was. And she liked them. But despite her obvious arousal, she fought. “No, Loki. Stay back. Don’t touch me,” she demanded.

 

He stepped even closer, enjoying the way she responded to him with a mixture of fear and arousal. “Or what? You’ll make me?” He smiled down at her, something dark stirring within him. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she shivered visibly. No, it wasn’t just a fight he needed, it was also _this_. He needed _her_ , to dominate her, to control her. And if her response to his words, to his threats, were any indication, a part of her wanted it too.

 

He leaned in close, whispering. “See that? You humans are so weak.” He ran his finger lightly down her neck, between her breasts. Gods, he wanted her. But not yet. He needed her to beg, to _submit_ to him. “Such slaves to your baser instincts. You were made to be ruled. How fortunate you are to have me here to help you, to put you in your place.”

 

He licked a delicate stripe around the cuff of her ear, and she clutched at him, pressing her body hard against his. This would be easier than he thought.

 

Suddenly, something changed in her. She’d been weak with want, but now she seemed confident, bolder. “Hm, it seems as though gods are just as beholden to their own desires as us lowly humans.” He didn’t understand immediately, and then she leaned into his erection, and he stopped breathing. She traced her hand down his body, and when she reached his pants, she grabbed his hard cock.

 

He pulled her hand away quickly. “Don’t,” he warned. But the damage was already done. She knew he wanted her, and she found some sort of power in that.

 

“Why? Because you _like_ it?” She stepped back from him and quickly removed her clothing. He’d never seen her naked, and it stopped all coherent thought. She was breathtaking, perfect, and he wanted nothing more than to ravish every inch of her.

 

She sauntered over to him, hips swaying as she did, and he moved backward, trying to get a little distance, just a moment to _think_. She pushed him lightly against the wall, and he let her. “I want you to fuck me, Loki.” He almost groaned but barely managed to hold it in. She pressed her naked body against his and placed his hand on her waist. He was having a difficult time moving, breathing. How had he lost so much control of the situation? “I want you to fuck me because you _want_ to, because you want to feel my human thighs wrapped around your waist as you thrust deep into my wet human cunt, because even though you may be a stronger, more powerful being, a _god_ , even, when it comes to this,” she stroked his cock through his pants, “you’re no better than any of us.”

 

That did it. Who did she think she was? He was a god, her king. She was some human woman he’d happened to kidnap. He refused to let her control him, to let anyone control him. He grabbed her shoulders, giving her one last chance to avoid his wrath. “Get on the bed,” he ordered.

 

She stared back at him, defiant. “ _You_ get on the bed.”

 

The tension had been running high between them, palpable. But with that, it broke. Suddenly, their mouths were pressed together, not the tender kisses they’d shared before, but fevered, passionate. She pulled at his hair, and he moaned. “Like that, do you?” she asked, and he was angry again.

 

He turned her around and pressed her hard against the wall. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to make her scream in pleasure, to make her beg for him as she’d done so many times before. He sucked and licked and bit all the beautiful parts of her that he’d denied himself before, her neck, her breasts. When he reached her stomach, she arched into him, and he wanted more. He stood up and lifted her legs around his waist, hands squeezing her ass, pressing himself into her, feeling her wet and hot even through the leather of his pants.

 

He was so close to losing it, to taking her right here against the wall. He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, teasing it, biting it. “Loki,” she gasped, and he moaned, loving it when she cried his name. She grabbed at his collar and forced his head up. “Clothes off. Now,” she ordered. He smirked down at her. She was the embodiment of lust. Everything about her screamed sex and heat and _want_ , and it made him feel powerful again. He did this to her. And he would do so much more.

 

He stepped back and magicked away his clothes. Her reaction was everything he could have wanted. He could practically feel the wetness pooling between her legs. She approached him with wide, lust-blown eyes, all control lost in her own desire. She stood close to him, so close that his cock stood against her stomach. She took her time touching him, running her hands along his chest, his stomach. And to his utter delight and satisfaction, when she finally stroked his cock, _she_ moaned in pleasure.

 

He took advantage of her weakness and grabbed her hair hard, forcing her to look at him as he dominated her. “Silly girl, thinking you could best me.” He yanked her hair harder and urged her down. “Kneel. For your king.”

 

She did as she was told and got on her knees before him. The sight was thrilling, and his body practically thrummed with pleasure. After all this time, after all her insolence and impudence, her fire and fighting, here she was surrendering to him on her knees. He smiled down at her in triumph and ran his finger over her lips. “Open,” he said, and she did.

 

He guided his cock into her mouth, moving her head at the pace he wanted most. The feel of her hot mouth around him as she submitted was incredible, and it made him moan. She began stroking him, and he could feel himself getting close. When she cupped his balls, squeezing them gently, he looked down at her and saw, not submission, but defiance, a sort of arrogance in bringing him so close.

 

He pulled her off of him before he could finish. He understood the game now, and there was no way she was going to win it. He would have her screaming soon enough. He would put her back in her place, and then he’d have his pleasure.

 

He grabbed her and tossed her on the bed, descending on her immediately, utilizing everything he knew about her to bring her pleasure cresting. He rubbed his cock along her folds, making her mad with desire. She clenched her thighs around him, and it took everything he had not to readjust his position, just oh so slightly, and take her. He continued to work her body, building her desire into a lustful frenzy. He could tell how desperate she was, how badly she ached for him, and he took the opportunity to reassert his control. 

 

“Show me how superior you are, love. Tell me to stop. Prove to me that you’re more than this. Admit your weakness, and I will give you everything you want.”

 

She kissed him passionately then, moaning desperately into his mouth as her tongue tangled with his, and he kissed her back, getting lost in the feel of her mouth, of her legs wrapping themselves around him. And then she surprised him.

 

Using all her weight, and his distraction, she rolled them both over, pinning him on his back. He had only a second to be annoyed when she suddenly impaled herself on his cock. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, could only look at her as he felt her wet heat envelop him. It was overwhelming in its suddenness, and it was fucking amazing.

 

She began to move up and down on him, stroking him with her tight cunt as she got used to his size. Once she could move more easily on him, she began to rock against him, pushing herself down as far as she could go. It was better than he’d even imagined it, and he met her movements with his own, hands on her hips, pushing and pulling her in a maddening rhythm. For a moment, he enjoyed it, all of it, her riding him with all the power of a goddess, her control, her body moving sensuously above him. But he wanted more.

 

He adjusted them so that he was sitting against the headboard, putting them face-to-face, body-to-body. It felt intimate, and he liked it, the feel of her so close. She wrapped her arms around him, and he nipped at her neck, sucking harder when she bared it to him, leaving a mark. She kissed him as she rode him, and he began to fight back for dominance. He’d allowed her her fun, and she’d surprised him, changed the game, but he refused to lose control to one of the humans he ruled, even if it was this one.

 

He rubbed her clit and took her breast in his mouth, teasing it, feeling her tremble beneath him. She was close, he knew, and he meant to push her over the edge. And then she started to whisper filthy things into his ear, how good he felt inside her, how badly she’d wanted him, how much she’d liked being on her knees, how she wanted it faster, harder. He moved his hands to her hips and helped her with her request, moving her hard and fast, making her moan as her orgasm approached. He knew she was fighting it, but she couldn’t hold on much longer. Neither could he, but he’d had a thousand years to learn patience, control. What could she do in the face of that?

 

She leaned in again, moaning. “I want to feel you come. _My king_.” Hearing her submission on her lips, even as she struggled to retain some power over him, was more than he could take. He thrust hard into her, grabbing her hips, shoving her down and taking her as deep as he could, shooting his seed deep inside her. And she came just after, clawing at his back, crying out, walls clenching around his cock buried inside her.

 

She collapsed on his chest after, breathing hard, heart racing. He put his arms around her and held her affectionately. She had bested him, this human, this surprising, wonderful woman. And he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset. Instead, he felt something akin to pride, to excitement, delight. She’d met everything he’d thrown at her and one-upped him at every turn. She’d manipulated him and worked him, made him lose control. And she’d done it without giving up anything, while still getting everything she’d wanted. It was oddly captivating, like he’d been beaten at his own game by an opponent he’d only just realized was worthy enough to even play against him.

 

As their bodies resumed their normal rhythms, he found himself feeling more peaceful, as he usually did with her, and he allowed himself to get drawn in, to feel calmer, more relaxed, happy, almost. He rolled them over onto their sides, still holding her, enjoying the feel of her soft naked body pressed against his.

 

“It seems I may have misspoken earlier,” he said, rubbing her arms tenderly.

 

“Oh?” she asked innocently.

 

He laughed at her reaction. “Indeed. Apparently,” he said, lifting her chin to look at him, “there are some humans worthy of my attentions.”

 

She grinned at him and then nestled closer in his arms. He continued to stroke her hair, her skin, knowing that he’d have to leave soon, that there was so much outside these walls that needed his attention. And yet, as he felt her breath even out and her body relax, he found himself lulled into sleep too.


	9. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers chapter 6 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

He hadn’t meant to stay the night. But as he was lulled gently awake by Sara’s soft touches, he realized that he had, somehow, despite all his troubles and worries, managed to relax enough to fall asleep. And if the soft light coming through the window were any indication, he’d slept well and long.

 

He didn’t think she’d noticed he’d awakened yet, busy running her hands gently over his body, and he was content to let her, reveling in the feel of her soft touches. Finally, she looked up at him, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Good morning,” he said.

 

She moved her hand up to his face. “Good morning,” she responded, sounding happy to see him. He kissed her hand, and she let it linger on his lips. He thought about how beautiful she was, so lovely in the early morning light, naked in his arms, touching him lightly. She kissed him softly, and she took his breath away.

 

He pulled her closer to him, wanting to feel the soft press of her body against his. Her touches were so light, her lips barely grazing over his own, such a contrast to the fire and passion they’d shared the night before. He decided to let her lead, to let her touch him as she wanted.

 

Holding her like this, feeling her lips on his own, her breath mingling with his, his cock sitting hard between their naked bodies as she slowly, gently, kissed him, it was maddening, and it was wonderful. He felt his arousal building inside him, begging to be released. She licked his bottom lip, and his breath grew shallow, rapid. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

 

She whispered his name against his mouth, and he was helpless to give in to her. He kissed her deeply but kept the pace slow, enjoying the sensations of her with him, of the way she made him forget everything else.

 

He rocked against her, needing the friction. As he pulled her leg around his waist, she reached down and stroked him, her touch as gentle as all the others had been. It made him moan in anticipation. He ran his hand along her body, exploring it in a way that he’d failed to do in the frenzy of the previous night. As his thumb rubbed against her nipple, she gasped, and it made him smile. He so enjoyed the little noises she made, the way her body reacted to him.

 

“Loki, please,” she urged, and he rolled on top of her. He looked down at her body, and he couldn’t remember ever wanting another woman like this. There had been plenty of women in his long life, seductive, beautiful women, but there was something special about her, something he had trouble resisting, and he found he didn’t really want to.

 

He fondled her breast with one hand and licked the other nipple, causing her to squirm and arch into him. He could spend the entire day doing this, so long as she moved like that underneath him. He didn’t think he could wait much longer to take her, though. His cock twitched with need, and his hand roamed down her body to that glorious spot between her thighs, and he inserted one finger into her, testing her readiness. He found her hot and wet and very ready.

 

He looked down at her, wanting nothing more than to shove himself deep inside that wet heat, to take and take from her until he was spent, but he hesitated. Last night was angry, impulsive, writhing bodies and power and control and _fucking_. But this morning, it all felt so different, having slept in each other’s arms, the intimate touches. He wanted to make sure she wanted this, too, that he didn’t take more than she wanted to give.

 

She nodded and wrapped her leg around his waist, seeming to understand his conflict. She pulled him close and whispered, “Yes,” and he was lost.

 

He finally pushed into her, and it was everything yesterday wasn’t. It was gentle, unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world to explore each other. He kissed her, touched her, wanted _more_ of her, all of her.

 

Apparently, she felt the same, whispering simply, “More.” He lifted her leg and adjusted his position, working them both toward climax, his thrusts deeper, harder. Even as he increased the pace, as he moved deeper inside her, she held onto him, not letting him go. She whimpered and moaned, whispered praises and pleases and _yes_ es into his ear.

 

He felt her orgasm approaching, and it spurred him on, making him come deep inside her as she clenched around him. He rested on his arms above her, breathing hard, not wanting to crush her. She reached up and kissed him, and he smiled and relaxed, rolling her over with him and settling her on his chest. He stroked her back tenderly as he worked to catch his breath, enjoying the weight of her on top of him.

 

As his breathing returned back to its regular rhythm, so too did his mind return to the world that existed outside these walls. With a resigned sigh, he realized that he’d stayed too long already, and that he had to go. He squeezed her a little tighter, wanting to hold onto this feeling just a little longer.

 

 


	10. Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gives her a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers chapter 6 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

“I have to go,” he said, resenting the fact that it was true. He’d much rather spend his day here, in her arms, in her bed, than out there with all his problems. But there _were_ problems, and there were complications, and there was trouble awaiting him. He’d already stayed the night without meaning to. He dreaded what awaited him once he left.

 

He knew he might not make it back that night, and she said she understood. He felt guilty, though, knowing that his was her only company and that she got lonely when he was away. He’d given the whole thing some consideration, and he thought he might have come up with a workable solution. He’d gotten to know her a little better over the past several weeks, and he thought his gift could help her loneliness and make her happy, too. But a little part of him was nervous. What if she didn’t like it? What if she was wary about accepting something he’d made with magic?

 

He hesitated and then told himself that it didn’t matter what she thought. She could take it or leave it, and he would be fine either way. No matter what had happened between them, it was no reason to care so much about the opinion of one human woman.

 

“I have in mind to give you a gift,” he said. “Would you like one? It’s to help with when I’m gone.”

 

Her head snapped up in excitement. “A gift? What kind of gift? Yes, please!”

 

He laughed at her joy and leaned down to kiss her. She delighted him, and he told her as much. He used his magic and presented her with his gift. It was a magic-made, magically-abled cat, a kitten, really. He thought she would enjoy having a pet, but he wanted to give her more than that. He wanted to give her a companion. The cat was very self-sufficient, fully capable of meeting all its own needs and entertaining itself. But it was also intelligent and would grow more so as time went on. That he gave it black fur and brilliant green eyes was a complete coincidence, he told himself.

 

Her reaction was enthralling. “A kitty?! You got me a kitty?” Her excitement was infectious, and Loki found himself grinning as he handed it over to her. She gushed over it, seeming even more excited when he told her he made it with magic, and he felt something akin to pride swell up within him.

 

Her face was playful and a little devilish as she declared his name to be Thor, god of the kitties. He knew she was just teasing him, but he found himself scowling all the same. He didn’t want to think about his oaf of a brother when he was with her. He didn’t want to think about any of his annoyances or problems when he was here.

 

After he’d shown his distaste for the name, she reconsidered it, looking the cat over carefully. “I’ll name him Mischief,” she finally declared, and Loki pretended that it didn’t please him immensely that she did so.

 

“A fine name,” he agreed, ignoring the way his insides warmed at the sight of her happily cuddling the kitten she’d named after him.

 

Alas, he couldn’t wait any longer. With his gift now given and resting happily in her arms, he leaned down and kissed her, relishing the contented hum that came from her. He wanted to deepen the kiss, take her back to bed, lose himself in her again, but he resisted, instead returning to ruling the Earth he’d fought so hard to win, to fulfilling a role that increasingly held less and less interest for him.


	11. Happy Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gives her a garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers Chapter 7 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

Sure enough, Loki found himself busy, trying to make up for the night he’d missed. But, despite the impressive amount of work he had to do, he found his thoughts turning often to Sara. He wondered how she and Mischief were doing, if they were getting along, if he eased her loneliness.

 

His mind continued to wander to her, to the incredible night of passion they’d shared, and the gentle morning after. He tried to focus on the work before him, but it had all become so tedious recently. A part of him wondered why he’d ever decided to do this in the first place. But he did like his title, and he did like his power, so there was that.

 

Lately, as he was faced with ever more problems and responsibilities, he’d found himself thinking back fondly on one of his favorite gardens on Asgard. He’d often visited there when he’d felt stressed or overwhelmed by his responsibilities and everyone else’s expectations. It was away from the palace, but with a beautiful view thereof, and it helped him to maintain perspective when he’d get close to losing it. He’d never brought anyone else there, had never felt the desire to, wanting to keep it a secret, something that was his own. But, for the first time, he was tempted to share it with someone else.

 

Because, he realized, Sara offered him the same respite that his garden had. No matter how overwhelming things were out here, he felt at ease with her, peaceful, and he hadn’t felt that anywhere else on Earth. He wondered what it would be like to combine his worlds, to see Sara on Asgard. He knew it wasn’t possible, but it warmed him nonetheless. He got to work on the illusion, and then put it in its place.

 

When he arrived to see Sara, she was so absorbed in the illusion that she didn’t even notice him walk up behind her. “Do you like it?” he asked. She did. She looked about in wonder as she gaped at the sky above, the city beyond, as he pointed out the palace and the Bifrost.

 

“Wow,” she said. “I can’t believe you lived here. Why would you leave all this for Earth?”

 

He knew her question was an innocent one, but it hit hard at that painful spot inside him. As he considered his answer, she looked up at him, face full of concern, and it hit hard at a different, softer spot inside him. He didn’t understand how she could look at him like that, after everything, but he was grateful for it, nonetheless. “That is a long story,” he told her. “Let’s just say it didn’t feel like home anymore.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, sincerely, cupping his cheek. He was moved by her kindness, by her care, and he kissed the palm of her hand, hoping he could convey his feelings without words.

 

“You know, I’ve never brought anyone here,” he confessed.

 

“I bet you say that to all the girls you kidnap,” she teased. He felt his mood grow lighter with her, as it always did.

 

“Only the special ones,” he assured her, grinning. Gods, but she was beautiful here, standing in his garden, on his planet, looking up at him with something like wonder and joy. He loved the way she smiled at him, and it reminded him that he had something else to make her happy.

 

“I’ve crafted another gift for you. For you both, actually,” he said, referring to Mischief. He magicked them matching charms, a collar for Mischief, and a bracelet for Sara, allowing them to communicate with each other, and to feel each other’s emotions. He could already do so with Mischief, as he was his creator, and he thought Sara would enjoy the ability, too.

 

And she did, gushing over the cat, grinning joyously. He refused to admit just how much it affected him to see her so happy, to have made her so, but he would allow a little of her joy into his heart.

 

She embraced him. “You’re amazing, Loki.” And again, he refused to admit the swell of pride that accompanied this mortal’s praise, the way that it made him want to do more for her.

 

“I’m sure you say that to all your kidnappers,” he quipped.

 

“Just the special ones,” she said, and this time he couldn’t deny it the feeling that came with her words, with the kiss that followed.

 

Her lips were soft on his, her hands warm on the back of his neck, and he didn’t even try to resist her. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he’d left, and his body yearned for hers. He pulled her flush against him, and she moaned as he did so, pressing herself even closer.

 

Their kisses became more insistent, their breaths more ragged, their hands tugging desperately at each other’s clothes. Once they finally stood there naked, Loki pulled back, looking down at her. She looked back at him with wide, lust-blown eyes, her lips swollen from the intensity of his kisses, and he savored the look of her then. He let himself feel his arousal and hers, let it settle between them. He put his hands on the sides of her neck, his thumbs settled on her cheeks, holding her face up to his, and he just enjoyed this intense moment between them, all heavy breathing and desperation and want.

 

He still held her face inches away from his, and something flashed over her face. “Loki?” she asked, and then he released himself, claiming her lips hard as she pulled him as close as possible, squeezing his cock between their stomachs as she did so.

 

He laid her down in the soft grass, and she grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her and kissing him deeply. He kissed her neck and rubbed himself against her entrance. She leaned her head back and moaned. “Please, Loki,” she cried, and he shivered at the sound of her begging for him. He plunged into her then, making her cry out again, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. She pulled his head down and kissed him, and he responded by thrusting steadily inside her, angling his hips to bring her the most pleasure possible.

 

It wasn’t rough, and it wasn’t urgent, nor was it soft and gentle either. It was firm kisses and warm smiles, desperate touches and sweet caresses. It was passion and something else, something more than they’d ever expressed in words. She was his comfort and his peace, his happy place, and he was, well, he didn’t know what he was to her, but he knew that she looked at him as though he were something wonderful, as though he were a light in her life instead of the darkness he’d intended to be.

 

He brought her to climax, and then he came too, panting above her as she threaded her hands through his hair, kissed him, and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. And as he came down, he looked at her again, not in arousal, though there was always that too, but in something like awe, and a little part of him began to worry about his developing feelings for this mortal. But as her hand stroked its way gently down his body, and she smiled mischievously up at him, he silenced that part and gave into her again.


	12. All Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between Chapters 7 and 9 of Revenge and Satisfaction, as I'm not planning to cover 8. So, if you're wanting hot chocolate and rainy days, you'll just have to read it in the original.

When Sara walked back in the room, Loki was there. He was sitting at the end of the couch, comfortably, arms over the back, legs spread in front of him, seemingly lost in thought.

 

Loki noticed Sara walk into the room, and he pulled himself from his thoughts. He looked up at her and smiled, happy to see her.

 

“Hey, Loki,” she said, kneeling down beside him on the couch and leaning forward to kiss him. He relaxed as she did, trying to let go of everything beyond these walls. He managed, for the most part, but it was becoming harder and harder to leave his stresses behind. She seemed to notice, tilting her head and considering him. “You ok?” she asked, stroking his cheek.

 

He leaned into her touch and kissed her hand. “Yes, love, I’m alright,” he assured her.

 

She frowned a little. “Bad day?” she asked.

 

He sighed. “I suppose so,” he conceded.

 

She looked wicked for a moment and then leaned in closer to him. “Want me to make it better?” she asked seductively. Before he could answer, she licked his ear and bit at his earlobe. He moaned and was instantly aroused, grabbing her waist and digging his fingers in.

 

She sat in his lap so she could get closer. “Poor Loki,” she whispered into his ear, as one hand cupped his neck and the other moved steadily downward. She kissed at his neck, and he leaned back, allowing her more access. “Is ruling the Earth hard work?” she asked, squeezing his cock for emphasis on the word _hard_.

 

He groaned and then laughed. “Yes, it actually is.”

 

She nodded in understanding. “Maybe you just need to relax,” she suggested, and then she moved backwards, off his lap and back onto the couch. He watched as she leaned her head forward, close to his lap and then looked up at him through long eyelashes. “Take off your clothes, Loki,” she ordered in a voice low and seductive. He immediately did as she’d asked, removing hers as well.

 

She looked down at her own naked body and shrugged. “That works,” she said, and he grinned.

 

She leaned forward again and took his cock in her hands, stroking him and teasing him with her tongue. He looked down at her, and she looked up, mouth full of his cock, and he moaned again at the sight of it. “Please, love,” he found himself panting.

 

“Alright, Loki,” she agreed, and then she proceeded to work him spectacularly. For a few minutes, he did manage to forget all his problems, to leave them behind, to get lost in the feel of her mouth and hands. He leaned his head back and just enjoyed the feeling of her pleasuring him.

 

His breathing grew faster as he approached his climax, his body tensing, his hips bucking up into her mouth. She felt his urgency and sped up her attentions, bringing him quickly to a fully gratifying orgasm. His body relaxed fully as he came down, stroking her hair and her back affectionately.

 

She sat up and cupped his face, kissing him gently. “All better?” she asked.

 

“Almost,” he answered.

 

She looked annoyed. “Almost?” she questioned.

 

“Almost,” he reaffirmed, pushing her down onto the couch and laying on top of her.

 

She put her arms around his shoulders and looked up at him mischievously. “Would fucking me make it _all_ better, Loki?” she asked.

 

“It really would,” he grinned.

 

She smiled. “Then _fuck me_ , Loki. And make it all better.”

 

He did.


	13. A Mess, Indeed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This covers Chapter 9 of Revenge and Satisfaction.

His visits to see Sara had become more erratic lately, as he’d had to focus more of his attention on fighting off the Avengers. They had recently carried out several successful attacks against him, and they had managed to sneak traitors into his ranks, leading to some close calls on his part that left him angrier than ever. He continued to fight them off, to elude them as they eluded him, but there was another problem. They were getting closer to Sara, and he couldn’t quite figure out how. And then he did. Tony Stark, the bane of his existence, was tracking his magic. Obviously, he hadn’t perfected his technique, but he was getting better, and he was getting closer. Each time Loki visited Sara, it was like shining a momentary beacon on the larger area in which he was hiding her.

 

And so he stayed away, attempting to lure them elsewhere. For a week, he changed his habits to make it look like he was hiding her in another city far away. He still came to the general area he was keeping her, so his plan didn’t look so deliberate, but he didn’t dare actually visit. It bothered him more than he liked to admit, to be so close but not see her.

 

He figured it was her calming energy and the passionate sex he missed but wouldn’t admit to anything more, except that he enjoyed her company and was unwilling to lose it. She was a release for him, a simple pleasure in the midst of his overwhelming responsibilities. That was all, he assured himself again.

 

As the week wore on, he became more irritated and more tired. It took a lot of work to move his magical signature elsewhere, to teleport to far off places over and over again without taking the time to replenish his magic. Finally, he thought he’d done enough to allow for a visit. He was tired, but he was still strong enough to teleport across the country to see her. He figured he could rest a little once he was there. But what he really wanted was just to see her, to hold her. It had been a long week, and he wanted to relax in her company and in her bed.

 

He should have known better. Sara was fire. As soon as he arrived, she jumped on him, beating her hands against his chest. “What the hell, Loki? Where have you been?” she screamed at him, panicky. “You can’t do that to me! You can’t just _leave_ me like that, not knowing what had happened, where you were, if you were…,” she trailed off, seeming to choke on the last word.

 

Loki felt terrible. He pulled her close, pinning her arms so she couldn’t fight him anymore. “Please don’t be angry, love. Please,” he begged her, kissing her head, hoping she could understand. “I couldn’t come, I’m sorry.”

 

She was so angry, seemed so scared. He wanted to comfort her, to assure her that everything was alright. Suddenly, she reached up and pulled his head down to her, kissing him passionately. He pulled back and looked down at her questioningly. Hers was not a chaste kiss, nor an angry kiss. It seemed… desperate, and he didn’t know why.

 

“Please, Loki. I need to know you’re here,” she said, and she tugged on his collar, bringing his face back to hers.

 

“I’m here, love,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

 

He understood. This week had been miserable without her, fighting to keep her, worried about losing her. He felt the need to hold her, to touch her, to know that she was still here with him. And so he kissed her this time, letting his worries and problems fall from his shoulders as easily as their clothes did. He touched every part of her, and she did the same to him. When she reached down and guided him into her, he let go of everything but her. He fucked into her hard, losing himself in her moans, her screams, her body, hot and soft beneath him, her walls clenched so tight around him, her scent, her hands digging almost painfully into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist so tight, urging him deeper, faster, even as he plowed into her mercilessly. He let himself forget about everything but her.

 

Suddenly, she came, shuddering underneath him. He didn’t slow his pace, continuing to thrust hard and fast, seeking his own release, and then he came too, crying out as he did so, releasing his anger and frustration with along with his orgasm, holding her tightly to him.

 

As they lay there trying to catch their breaths, she playfully patted him on the cheek. “Glad you’re alive,” she said, smiling.

 

It was amazing, her ability to defuse a situation, to lighten it so instantaneously. It made him laugh. “As am I,” he breathed. “Though there were some close calls there.”

 

Sara suddenly seemed concerned. “Loki, what’s happening? Please tell me. I was so worried.”

 

He was moved, as always, by her concern. He brushed his hand against her cheek. “Don’t worry for me, love. I am not so easily defeated. It would take a lot to kill me.”

 

She laid back down next to him, staring at the ceiling. “Avengers?” she asked simply.

 

He sighed. “Yes.”

 

“Are they winning?” she asked, and something in her tone caught Loki’s attention. Did she want them to win? Despite her affections, did she still root for her brother? Surely, she knew that their winning meant unseating him from his throne, capturing or killing him, never seeing each other again. It occurred to him that maybe she didn’t care. He tamped down the feeling that came with that thought. “They won’t,” he told her, and she nodded.

 

“I may have to move you, though,” he confessed. “Soon.”

 

“Move me?” she asked. “Why?”

 

“They’re close to finding you.”

 

“Oh,” she said simply, and he wondered what she thought of that. After all, he knew what he’d done, what he’d taken from her. He knew that she didn’t deserve to be locked away, here, with him. But he also knew that he wouldn’t ever let her leave. He was a selfish god, and they’d come too far, the two of them. Whatever happened, she belonged to him.

 

He thought of the Avengers, of how close they were, and he sensed the end approaching, the final fight. And part of him was ready for it. He grew weary of this world, of ruling it, of fighting for it. But he also knew he would continue to do so, to fight for his power until his defeat was imminent and inevitable. And even then, he would take her with him. He liked to think that she would come willingly with him, but he knew better. He knew who he was and what he’d done.

 

“What happens to me if you die?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

 

“I won’t,” he assured her. “But if I did, the spell on this place would break, and you and Mischief would be free.”

 

She seemed to think on that, and he decided to stop any silly treachery she might be considering. “Lest you get any foolish ideas, love, I emphasize that I am exceptionally hard to kill.”

 

She looked at him in confusion, and then understanding lit her face. She gasped, seeming surprised at his implication. “I would never, Loki. I couldn’t kill you.”

 

“Even after everything?” he asked, genuinely curious. He’d done terrible things, ruined her life, taken her from everything and everyone she knew and loved. He deserved her ire, her hatred. She should want him dead.

 

She seemed to give real consideration to his question, growing quiet. He waited, allowing her to maneuver through her thoughts. Finally, she looked at him again and nodded. “After everything. I don’t want you dead, Loki.”

 

It was his turn to get lost in thought. He knew she was sincere, but he didn’t understand it. That he cared for her in some capacity, he was slowly, begrudgingly, beginning to accept, but to think that she could genuinely care for him was fanciful at best and would lead to disappointment, or worse. She was his prisoner, and this had always been the plan, to manipulate her into believing she had feelings for him. That he would start to believe it, too, had never occurred to him. Perhaps it would be best to just accept that she didn’t want him dead, and to not bother thinking beyond that truth.  He wondered at their relationship, at how complicated it was, and he struggled to remember how they’d gotten to this point.

 

He pulled her close, not wanting to think anymore, just wanting to feel her in his arms.

 

“This is a mess,” she said.

 

He couldn’t agree more. “Indeed.”

 

 


	14. Betrayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers the final two chapters of Revenge and Satisfaction, chapters 10 and 11.

He was tired, the Avengers closer than ever. He could feel the fight approaching, and he found he had no taste for it. Not that it meant he’d be surrendering or running anytime soon. He ruled this world, and he had no intention of making it easy for them to take from him.

 

Still, it wore at him more and more, and as this long day came to an end, he found himself needing the comfort of her company. The hour was late, and there was a risk to visiting, but he wanted to see her, and so he did. He had no way of knowing that this would be their last night together.

 

When he arrived, she was asleep, as he’d assumed she would be. He removed most of his clothing, intending to slip into bed next to her without disturbing her slumber. She shifted a bit, moaning lightly, and he felt it in his cock. He saw the barest flash of exposed breast, and he wondered if she was sleeping nude.

 

He was delighted to see that she was, and even further overjoyed when she reached forward and brought his mouth to hers. He wanted her, wanted to please her, wanted everything she seemed so willing to give, despite everything he’d done, everything he was. He wanted to lose himself in her and never return. With her was ecstasy and light. Away from her, everything dulled, and the darkness he’d clung to for so long seemed pointless and unimportant. Not that he was ready to abandon it completely, but he’d found himself needing to feed off it less and less.

 

She took care of him as he came down, stroking his hair, kissing him, whispering praises in his ear. She made him feel… safe, if it was possible that Loki was capable of feeling so. He held her close and kissed her tenderly. “You are spectacular,” he told her, and he meant it.

 

“So are you,” she responded, and he wanted to believe it when it came from her.

 

“May I stay here tonight?” he asked.

 

“Please,” she nodded, and a rush of contentment moved through his tired body.

 

He covered them with the blanket and held her close. “Thank you,” he vaguely remembered saying before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

He left early the next morning, called away by the misadventures of the damned Avengers. He kissed her lovingly and promised to return later.

 

But there was no later, there was no more them, their time together was over.

 

He fought the Avengers all that night and the next day. Too late, he realized that they’d infiltrated every area he held under his control, using the last few months to meticulously set tiny time bombs within the structures that upheld his power. If he didn’t hate them so much, he’d have been impressed. Each piece alone was too small to notice, but when executed together so precisely, it struck a blow so devastating that he’d lost the fight before realizing it had truly begun.

 

He hated to lose the fight, but he also knew when he was beaten. He decided to go to Sara, grab her, and run. He didn’t know where they’d go, but he wasn’t leaving without her. Besides, it would be one last blow to Tony Stark to lose her, to have to live without ever seeing her again, knowing that, even in his loss, Loki had bested him.

 

He was about to go, to abandon this world, when he was cornered by one of his most trusted. At least, he’d thought so. He laughed darkly as he realized how thoroughly he’d been infiltrated. The man circled him carefully, but he still stayed, taunting Loki, angering him. Loki didn’t understand why he was stupid enough to do this, knowing that it could only end in his death, or worse. And then he did. Realization hit him hard. “A distraction,” he whispered, eyes narrowed. Finally, the man looked scared. Loki approached him menacingly, grabbing the man by the throat.

 

“We’ve already got her,” he managed to say before chomping down on something that killed him before Loki could. Loki screamed in frustration. Had they reached her already? He knew he shouldn’t have visited her last night, that Tony was getting better at tracking him, but foolishly, he’d done it anyway. He gathered his magic and rushed over to where he was keeping Sara, ready for a fight.

 

When he appeared, he was expecting a trap, to fight off the Avengers, for Sara to be long gone. But it was none of that. Instead, the place was empty, and Sara sat on the couch, holding Mischief tightly in her lap. She looked distraught, face drawn and full of worry. He immediately phased out of his battle armor and knelt to make sure she was alright. “What’s happened? Are you alright?”

 

She began to cry, then, and then he heard it. Just a little noise, but a telling one. Just as he’d used her as bait, they’d done the same. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Oh, love, what have you done?” he asked, silently begging her to tell him this was a misunderstanding, that she hadn’t known, hadn’t been involved in his downfall.

 

Instead, she whispered, “I’m sorry,” confirming what he already knew. She had betrayed him. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, and it felt like an icy dagger in his heart.

 

He cupped her face, looking at her one last time, wiping her tears away. “Sentiment,” he whispered, and that word held so much for him. They’d done this to each other, led each other down this path, knowing there would be no happy ending. And yet, still they’d come. She’d betrayed him, and it was time to repay her for that, to allow the darkness back into the cracks she’d opened up inside him, to where the light had squirmed its way back in. It was time to complete his plan, to strike a blow at Tony Stark that he could never recover from, and to prove to himself that he was stronger than this, that he needed no one else, that what they’d had together had all been a mistake.

 

And yet, he didn’t. Knowing that it would weaken him to do so, he pushed her mind into unconsciousness, and then he sent her across the country, to her home, without him. He’d question why later, if he survived this next fight, but for now, something in him quieted, knowing that she was safe, and that he would never see her again. His time with her was over. He would close the door and walk away, he would fight his brother and kill hers. He would remind himself of who he really was, return to his darkness, and he’d never think about her again.

 

 


	15. Hello, Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers the events between Revenge and Satisfaction and Unbound, as well as Chapter 1 of Unbound.

He’d fought, he’d lost, he’d been bound and gagged, dragged back to Asgard, mocked by Odin, and thrown in the dungeons, left to rot for the next couple of centuries. And for what? Doing as his “father” had always done? He laughed humorlessly at the hypocrisy.

 

He tried not to think of Sara, of the way she’d softened his heart, only to rip it apart later. He refused to be so foolish again, and he steeled his heart, letting it run even colder than before. Even his mother couldn’t pierce it. After all, she’d betrayed him too. They all had.

 

He loathed his prison, his resentment and anger growing each day he sat there alone. A part of him wondered bitterly what kind of man he’d be when he emerged in 200 years. Assuming that Odin didn’t lengthen his punishment, of course. He sometimes passed the time imagining killing Odin or, better yet, tricking him, stealing his throne and forcing _him_ to rot in these cells alone. Of course, he’d have to deal with Thor and his mother. And thus, his imagination turned to hurting Thor, to paying him back for his mistreatment on Earth and for so much more. He stopped at his mother, though. He took no joy in imagining her in pain, and so he went back to mentally torturing Odin.

 

Solitary confinement didn’t suit him, he found, not surprisingly. He was bored, his mischief bound, his mind and magic idle. And so, when Thor approached him, asked him for help in saving his human, he jumped at the chance. Of course, he made Thor work for it. He couldn’t seem too eager. He knew this was his chance to escape, to run, to leave everything behind. And Thor knew it too.

 

All that time that Loki had spent fighting Thor, trying to kill him, had left Thor deeply suspicious of Loki. And after all the time he’d spent imagining betraying his brother, killing him, of getting even, Loki knew he had very good reason to be. And so it was to the shock of both men that Loki laid down his life for Thor, dying to save him. In those final moments, he felt regret, and it shocked the hell out of him. And then he succumbed to darkness, and he died.

 

At least, he thought he did. He came slowly back to consciousness, pain radiating through his body. He felt soft, sandy ground underneath him, warmth above him, and a pressure on his already pained chest. He opened his eyes, and his vision was filled with a black, furry face and intelligent green eyes. “Mischief?” he asked, unsure of whether his eyes were playing tricks on him. But the cat _felt_ real, kneeling painfully on the spot where he’d been speared through. “Why are you on Svartalf—” he began, when he looked around. He was on a sandy beach, the waves lapping gently at the shore nearby. The sun was shining hot and bright. This wasn’t Svartalfheim. “No, wait, where am I?” he wondered aloud.

 

And then he heard the last sound he’d ever expected to hear again. “Welcome back, Loki,” came the voice of Sara Stark.

 

He leaned back against the sand and closed his eyes, feeling as though everything he knew had just been turned upside down, like he was about to be the butt of some great cosmic joke. “What the hell?” was all he could think to say.


	16. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, starting to wrap up my adventures in fan fiction. Alas, it's time to return to the real world, boring as that may be. Thank you again to LavenderSquid for encouraging me to write the story from Loki's perspective. It was a lot of fun. And thank you to everyone who stuck around, commented, and left kudos. You guys rock. <3
> 
> This covers Chapters 2 and 3 of Unbound.

She’d helped him with his wound, hands running delicately along his skin as she bandaged it up. He tried not to remember how soft her touch could be, how much pleasure those hands were capable of bringing.

 

He tried to push her away, to threaten her, to frighten her, but she didn’t budge. She was just as he remembered, beautiful, confident, warm, light, positive and sincere. It made his chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the hole that ran through it.

 

He was an expert at walling off his heart, of letting the darkness take over. And yet, here with her again, it refused to close itself off. It ached for her, and he suddenly understood why she could forgive him after everything he’d done. Because when she whispered his name, when she held his hand to her face and apologized with a sincerity that was staggering, even for her, and promised never to send him away again, he found himself forgiving her, too.

 

They’d gone to separate rooms, and he was both glad for it and disappointed by it. He still longed for her, but he knew it was a weakness, and he knew it couldn’t last. There was no life for them together, he knew that, and it was better that he let go of any foolish ideas to the contrary now. Falling into bed with her would be a mistake. He’d given in to the wishes of his body before, and it had broken his mind and his heart. He would avoid her as best he could, and then he’d move on.

 

Once his wound was healed, he gathered his magic and shielded himself from Heimdall, hoping that he hadn’t bothered searching for him here earlier when he’d been open to his all-seeing eye. It didn’t matter, he figured, as he’d be gone soon enough. He didn’t know where he’d go, but there were hidden passages on all the worlds, and even a place as uncivilized and magically-limited as Midgard would have one somewhere. He’d just have to go looking for it.

 

For a moment, and only a moment, he contemplated taking Sara with him, either by choice or by force, but he lost his appetite for it immediately. He didn’t want to control her anymore. She was better when she was free, and he had no desire to hurt her anymore. He’d had his time with her, and that would have to be enough.

 

He sighed as his thoughts crowded in on him, and he looked out the window. It was a lovely night, the moon was bright, the air was cool, and the waves crashed soothingly on the beach in the distance. He decided to get some air. Maybe it would help him organize his thoughts.

 

He heard her approach behind him a little while later. He turned to her and his breath stopped. She was wearing a very short silk dress, trimmed with lace. He knew it was what many Midgardian women wore to bed, but it immediately awoke all the feelings he’d spent the evening trying to ignore. He strengthened his resolve and pushed them away again. He would not be brought down by a short dress on a beautiful woman, he told himself.

 

And then she’d touched him. She rubbed her hand on his chest, in awe of how he’d healed. He stood still, hoping she would stop after her examination, but she didn’t. Her hand trailed upward first, stroking his neck, and then moving back down. When she reached his stomach, he knew that his patience was at a breaking point. He would turn her away. She would understand or she’d feel rejected, but this was for the best.

 

“Probably not a great idea, love. A lot has changed.”

 

“Yes, it has,” she agreed, and he relaxed a little, thinking she’d pull back. “Still,” she continued, “Would it be so bad? One more night? I missed you, Loki.”

 

Everything in him screamed at him to lunge forward, to take her, to find peace and release in her arms and in her touch. He tried to focus on her betrayal, on the pain it had caused him this past year. A part of him wanted to punish her, to hurt her in the most pleasurable ways possible, to make her scream his name as he pounded into her. And then he could think of nothing else. He looked back at her again. “I won’t be gentle,” he warned.

 

She stroked his face softly, and he thought she meant to apologize again, that she’d ask him to take her gently. But, as always, she surprised him. “I don’t want you to be,” she whispered.

 

He couldn’t hold back another moment. He pushed her hard against the wall and ripped her dress down the middle, exposing her to him and making her gasp delightfully. He fucked her roughly into the wall, and as he did, he felt some broken part inside him mend itself. As he released himself into her, he also released so much of his pain, his hurt.

 

He sank against the wall afterward, unsure of what to do next. Before he could bother to think any further, she spoke. “Loki?” she asked, “You wanna do that again?”

 

Yes, he did.

 

\---------------

 

The next morning came, and she made him an offer. She wanted him to stay. With her. She _cared_ about him, she said. She offered him a new life, free from his past, free from his prison, and free from the expectations that had haunted him his whole life. She offered him redemption.

 

And yet, he hesitated. His darkness had been a part of him for so long, had fueled him, fed him when he’d had nothing else. Could her light really be enough? He hesitated, but he also knew what he’d decide. He’d known the moment he’d held her in his arms again. She was his, and he was hers. And he would never let her go.


End file.
